


What Happened to Forgive and Forget

by The_Little_Sun



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Gen, Happy times with the Pines, Memory Related, Panic Attacks, Post-Weirdmageddon, Questionable happy times, Stan is still sort of salty, This was suppose to be pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-08-09 17:30:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7810846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Little_Sun/pseuds/The_Little_Sun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stan is salty. Ford is awkward.</p>
<p>A late birthday gift that refused to be uploaded.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Happened to Forgive and Forget

**Author's Note:**

  * For [embulalia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/embulalia/gifts).



Most mornings found the kitchen table commandeered by various papers, pens, torn pages from notebooks with frantic scribbles all over, and glitter. Ford would usually be sitting in a chair, hand on his chin as he reviewed a sparkly notebook. All of Ford’s things had gotten targeted by Mabel when she was going on one of her ‘beautify everything’ sprees. He really didn’t mind although the sparkly powder kept making him sneeze. 

After losing all three of his journals to Bill, Ford had begun to replace his research with some help from an excited Dipper. He was always careful about bringing the boy with him since many of Gravity Falls’ secrets and oddities were still unsafe, even after the horrorshow that was Weirdmaggedon. He was one hundred percent certain that Stan would throttle him if Dipper got so much as a bug bite while out with him. 

As much as Ford loved and enjoyed his family’s company, he treasured the quiet mornings that he could work without any interruptions. Stan had never been an early-riser and the younger twins would wake up around eight. If Ford managed to finish whatever he was working on before everyone was up, he’d surprise them with pancakes or waffles. 

Today hadn’t decided to follow the usual routine. 

The coffee machine had just made a chirp to announce that it was ready as Ford dug through the fridge. The noise startled him and he jumped, smacked his head on a tray, and withdrew from the chilly air with a hiss of pain. He grumpily closed the fridge door and went to the cabinets to find a cup. Ford only found a blue mug with  _ World’s Best Uncle _ printed on it, although uncle had been changed to grunkle thanks to some messy handwriting. With a small smile, Ford took it back to the annoying coffee machine. He fiddled around with some of the buttons until it released the coffee pot. Ford poured some into the mug and then fished around the cabinets for cinnamon and sugar. He had to put the sugar back since he was pretty sure that sugar didn’t sparkle-at least, not in this dimension. 

Heavy footsteps coming from the room next door caught him by surprise. “Heya, Sixer.”

Ford couldn’t help but shiver at the old nickname that was heavy with memories-both good and bad. Unfortunately, most were unpleasant and had physical manifestations in the scars that marred his skin. He gave himself a mental shake before turning towards his brother, warm smile in place and reaching out to hand off the mug of steaming coffee. 

“Good morning, Stan-” He cut off at the slight smirk that twisted Stan’s lips. “Ahem. Good morning. Coffee?” He sloshed the coffee around the mug, mostly to just get that unsettling gaze away from him. 

Stan gingerly accepted it and took a small sip. His nose crinkled and he looked at the mug’s contents with suspicion. “You put cinnamon in here.” 

Ford hastily snatched the mug back and set it down on the counter. “Oh, sorry. I’ll fix that. I guess I wasn’t paying attention-”

 

“You never do.”

“Pardon?” Ford froze at the icy words. He glanced back to see his twin with his arms crossed and a frown in the usual place of his cheerful smile. Stan took a step closer to him and Ford backed up, his mind alert for danger. Stan’s frown deepened at the action.

“Still don’t trust me, huh? I figured.” He inched closer, but Ford stayed back. 

Ford held his hands up and mumbled, “N-no. You know that isn’t true.” Stan’s eyes suddenly burned with anger. His fists clenched and he stepped right up to Ford. Ford leaned back, but hit against the wall. “Stanley, stop.” 

“Stop? You feelin’ a little uncomfortable? Bit nervous, scared even?”

“Stanley-”

Stan poked Ford’s chest with a finger, leaning down until their noses were a few inches apart. “How do you think  _ I _ felt when Pops kicked me out? This is  _ nothin’ _ .” With a final sharp jab at his brother’s chest, Stan stepped back and let Ford push past him. “Where ya goin’?”

“I need some air,” Ford managed, panic still burning in his throat. He had to keep himself from practically fleeing the kitchen. Wave after wave of nausea crashed into him as memories that he never wanted to relive began to surface from the back of his mind. He pushed the front door open, stumbled out onto the porch, and collapsed on the fading yellow couch.  _ Breathe in for five and then out for five,  _ Mabel’s sunshine-filled voice whispered like when she would sit next to him after a particularly bad nightmare. Ford dropped his head into his hands, trying to ignore the trembling that was beginning to take control of his body. 

Stan poked his head out into the fresh air maybe a hour later. Ford was still slouched against the threadbare couch and seemed completely out of it. Stan picked his way across the creaking floorboards until he was next to his twin. He laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Hey.”

Ford looked up in surprise and, when seeing that Stan was so close, his face suddenly became closed off. “What is it?” Stan gave Ford a confused stare. “Is everything okay?”

The sincerity in his voice surprised Ford.  _ After rubbing salt into old wounds, he now is concerned?  _ Apparently the look on his face was enough for his twin, who just sighed and gave him a sad smile. Ford returned it, but didn’t say anything. Stan plopped himself down next to his brother and the two sat in silence for a few moments.

It wasn’t very long until a loud shriek echoed from inside the Shack. Mabel erupted from inside and shouted, “Dipper got his hand stuck!” She spun on her heel and raced back inside, hysterically giggling. Stan chuckled and stood up.

“C’mon, nerd. You’re gonna need to get the butter.”

  
Ford got to his feet with a little smile. The awkward events of earlier faded from his mind as he went to go aid his nephew. 


End file.
